


these words are knives (and often leave scars)

by Anonymous



Series: meow writes! [1]
Category: Monster High
Genre: Angst, F/F, Love Confessions, POV Alternating, Unrequited Love, like ... it alternates a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28191450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Don’t look me like that,” says Draculaura, her adorable pout contrasting with the firmness in her tone. “You looked like you needed a hug.”or: Clawdeen comes clean about her feelings towards her best friend.
Relationships: Draculaura/Clawdeen Wolf
Series: meow writes! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065278
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39
Collections: Anonymous





	these words are knives (and often leave scars)

**Author's Note:**

> just a fun writing exercise to see if i've still got what it takes but i just wanted to say that ... i really like clawdeen x draculaura lol tbh i feel like the ghoul squad have got more chemistry w each other than with their boyfriends phew
> 
> prompt for this fic comes from the otp prompt generator (which i had to access via the wayback machine since it's taken down 🥲 ... it was the only otp generator that had an option to swap names 😔)
> 
> anyway, i hope you enjoy this!
> 
> \- 🐈

“Don’t look me like that,” says Draculaura, her adorable pout contrasting with the firmness in her tone. Clawdeen almost wishes she could look away from her. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

Clawdeen’s ears lower before she allows herself to rest her head on Draculaura’s shoulder. Draculaura’s body is cool, like the temperature of the air around them, but somehow Clawdeen finds the lack of warmth comforting. Her eyes flutter shut as she wraps her arms around Draculaura, the tension in her shoulders dissolving. She allows herself this one thing, this selfish thing, to relish in the feeling of being held in Draculaura’s arms for there may come a time when she can no longer feel this way again.

Draculaura’s hands pats her back in a reassuring manner; she says nothing, though she doesn’t need to since her presence is all that Clawdeen needs at the moment. They stay there for who knows how long but by the time Clawdeen lets her go, her cheeks are moist.

Draculaura gives a start at the sight of her tears. “Oh my! Do you want me to hug you some more?” she asks, rather alarmed.

Despite herself, a laugh bubbles its way out of Clawdeen’s throat. “Draculaura,” she manages with a watery smile, wiping away at her face with the back of her hands. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she says dismissively as she turns away.

Draculaura, sweet Draculaura whose un-beating heart is bigger than her whole body, shakes her head. Of course she isn’t convinced by Clawdeen’s feeble attempt at a lie. At first she thought Clawdeen was having those days where she was simply moody but Clawdeen has been so down for the past week — way longer than usual — she absolutely had to do _something_ about it. 

“You’re not,” she says, her hand catching Clawdeen’s wrist before her werewolf friend can leave. “Come.” She leads Clawdeen away from the courtyard to the nearest stone bench she can find away from prying eyes. The two of them sit, Draculaura angling herself so the two of them are facing each other, and does her best to meet Clawdeen’s eyes. Draculaura knows something’s up when Clawdeen refuses to meet her gaze.

“It’s just the two of us here,” says Draculaura. It’s not a lie and Clawdeen’s senses are as sharp as hers so she’d know if Draculaura wasn’t telling the truth. “I want you to know that I’m here for you,” she says, every ounce of her self-control holding back the urge to babble about how she supports Clawdeen no matter what she’s going through, that she’ll always be a friend bla bla bla because this is about Clawdeen. Clawdeen and whatever’s bothering her.

Slowly, Clawdeen raises her head. Her eyes, which had always been so vibrant and full of life, look dull and almost terrified. Even her ears that usually stand straight and pointed droop slightly backwards. “Thanks, Draculaura.” She smiles weakly but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Draculaura does her best not to push Clawdeen to speak. She needed to do this at her own pace, not because Draculaura is prodding her to say something. Draculaura reaches out to hold Clawdeen’s hands; she knows her hands are cold, a side effect of being undead, but hopes that the gesture would help in some way.

“It’s … it’s silly,” Clawdeen finally says after a long pause. “I shouldn’t even be feeling this way.”

Draculaura’s guts twist. She wants to scream _No, it’s not! Don’t ever say that_ but instead she says, “Your feelings are valid.” 

Clawdeen averts her gaze. Her lips fold together into a thin line and then she shakes her head. “No, you don’t understand.” A mirthless laugh rises from her as she pushes a hand through her hair. Her heart is pounding so quickly and so violently against her ribcage that it feels like a frantic wing beats of a small bird. She can’t bring herself to look at Draculaura, not when she’s looking at her with wide-eyed concern. 

It’s all Clawdeen’s fault that she’s in this spot in the first place. It’s her fault for not considering that sour taste at the back of her throat when Draculaura started talking about Clawd with stars in her eyes and enthusiasm coloring her lovely voice. It’s her fault for not thinking things through before encouraging Draculaura to talk to Clawd so she’d stop blabbering about Clawdeen’s brother. It’s her fault for not listening to her heart, who told her that she should make her feelings clear before it was too late, that she was here like this. 

It’s pretty ironic how the person offering her shoulder to Clawdeen is the person who is the sole reason Clawdeen got herself into this whole mess. There’s a funny feeling in Clawdeen’s gut that, if she put in words, felt like she’d swallowed a whole can of zombie worms when she looked back at Draculaura again. 

With Draculaura staring at her like that, every muscle in her slender body tense with concern, Clawdeen doesn’t think she can keep lying to her. So she swallows the sick apprehension and fear twisting her inside, and says, “Remember when … when you told me Clawd asked you out to the dance?”

A small crease appears between Draculaura’s eyebrows as she nods slowly.

Clawdeen inhales. “I lied,” she says. “I lied when I said I was happy for you. I lied when I said you’re good enough for my brother.”

Draculaura’s eyebrows arch upwards this time. “But … but why?” she asks, baffled. “Why wouldn’t you be happy for me? What do you mean — You don’t think I’m good enough for your brother? Why?” 

Clawdeen hesitates. Now that things were set in motion, there’s no way she can turn back now. “Because,” she begins, her voice cracking audibly, “because I didn’t want to ruin things for you. You looked happy about the whole thing —”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Draculaura’s hands release hers as she stares at Clawdeen incredulously.

“No, it’s not —” Clawdeen breaks off with a frustrated growl, her ears folding flat against her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” She draws another breath to steady herself but the world around her is tilting side to side as if the world had fallen out of its axis and was trying to stabilize itself. She squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m in love with you, Draculaura.”

The silence that follows after her confession is deafening, almost as unbearable as her pulse drumming away in her ears. Draculaura stares at her, eyes wide and lips parted; she looked as if she’d gone paler than usual from the shock. Clawdeen doesn’t know if she’d rather Draculaura said something to that — she always had a reaction to everything — or not say anything at all.

Clawdeen laughs, a bitter and heartbreaking sound. She gets up, her eyes on anywhere but Draculaura. “It’s fine,” she says even if it really isn’t. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way but I just wanted to come clean.”

Draculaura doesn’t reply. Her head is turned away, plump lips pressed tightly together and her fists curled on her lap. If anything, Clawdeen thought she looked … betrayed … disgusted even. Draculaura doesn’t need to breathe but her chest rises slowly like she’s drawing a deep breath to regain her composure. “Clawdeen, I’m sorry,” she says.

Clawdeen feels numb all over. It would be so much easier if Draculaura spurned her away rather than let her down easy. “You don’t have to be,” she replies, lacking any inflection in her voice. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“No, that’s not it!” Draculaura turns back to her. “It’s … I —” She breaks off, standing up. She tries to reach for Clawdeen’s hand but Clawdeen backs away from her. Her face flashes with hurt. “Clawdeen,” she pleads.

“You’ll only make things worse if you feel sorry for me!”

“I don’t feel sorry for you!”

Clawdeen stops stepping away from her. _Then what is it?_

Draculaura’s lower lip trembles. She opens her mouth then shuts it then opens it again like she can’t decide what to say. “I’m sorry I was super oblivious,” she says. “It must’ve been so annoying for you to hear me about your brother like that the whole time.”

Clawdeen blinks a few times. “Yeah … yeah, it kinda was.”

Draculaura nods. “I think I kinda get why you were so … against the whole idea of me and your brother being together at first.”

This time, Clawdeen snorts. “I didn’t understand myself at first, if that makes you feel better.”

The laugh Draculaura releases is so unlike her, dull and lacking any sort of genuine amusement. “I don’t blame you.” She regards Clawdeen thoughtfully for a few moments before saying, “It’s not easy, is it? Being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.”

“It isn’t.” Clawdeen sighs.

“If I’d known —”

“Don’t.” Clawdeen shakes her head. “Just … just forget about it, okay?” She sighs again, turning away from Draculaura. It’s strange how Draculaura’s chest hurts more at this gesture than at the thought of Clawd breaking up with her. 

“But thanks for listening anyway.”


End file.
